Dollymog's
by Laota II
Summary: Back at the Country Side Inn, Cas and Garth show up to give Sam and Dean the lowdown on some unfamiliar beasties. A very important photo emerges.


THE COUNTRY SIDE INN - NIGHT

Sam trudged into the motel room, scratched, bruised and out of breath. He started carefully shrugging his coat off, wincing. Dean came in after him. He was soaking wet and had the beginnings of a black eye. He went for the closest bed and let himself fall on it.

"I just wanted to do my laundry-." Sam said.

"We're off the clock," Dean growled, cutting him off. "It's 'Sam and Dean's Fun-Time', remember? We don't fold whites during 'Sam and Dean's Fun-Time'. And anyway, it was a friggin' nudie-bar. How the hell was I supposed to know the place was vamp city?"

"You could try checking the flyer," Garth said.

Sam and Dean turned to see Garth Fitzgerald in the doorway, holding up a wrinkled sheet of yellow paper.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fun-Time just keeps gettin' funner and funner."

Garth let himself in and handed the flyer to Sam, glancing from him to Dean and back. He grimaced. "Sounds like somebody's got a case of The Mondays. What's good, y'all?"

Sam read the flyer incredulously, "'Free... **_virgin blood party_** at Dollymog's'?" He held it out to Dean.

Dean sat up and snatched the paper. "Gimme that."

"You know," Garth said, "you don't have to say that if it's already in your hand."

Sam nodded. "It _is_ weird, right?"

Dean stared at the flyer, looking more and more pissed-off. "They used the Metallica font! I'm gonna gank their pasties off."

Sam sat on the edge of the dining table. "Since you're on such a roll today," he said to Garth, "maybe you could tell us why decapitation doesn't work on vampires anymore."

"They aren't vampires," Castiel said.

Garth gave a little yelp, still not used the way Angel's just appear. He had to catch his breath, clutching at his chest. "I thought we had a pow-wow about this?" he said, getting in Castiel's face. "Hunters use the door, remember?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel and Garth. "You know, I've never seen you two in the same room before. I'm not gonna lie, it kinda scares the crap outta me."

"You and all the villain-folk," Garth said, putting an arm around Castiel's neck. "Me and my homeslice are just kickin' ass and chewin' gum. We make a pretty good team, right? Angel and the Bad Man."

"Really?" Dean said, with a slight smile. "'Cause it looks more like Stoner and the Parole Officer."

Garth chuckled and grinned at Castiel. "He called you a stoner." He gave Castiel's neck a squeeze "Good times, broseph. You gotta bring me in on these things more often."

"Wait a minute," Sam said. "Cas, you came to Garth with this, when we were in town? We saw you this morning."

Castiel, who had seemed almost apathetic to the proceedings until now, spoke up. "Dean said you both needed a sabbatical. He was fairly explicit."

"Yeah," said Dean, getting off the bed, "but that doesn't mean we don't get a heads-up. What, you can fly all the way to the island and back to pick up Gilligan, but you don't have time hit a pay phone? We nearly bought it back there."

"The place is called _Dollymog's_," Garth said. "A fact that should've sent up a few red flags."

Sam closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Dolly and Mog."

Garth pointed at Sam and made a clicky noise. "Bingo on the second try, Stretch. They've opened up shop in Gentry County."

"But they aren't vampires?" asked Sam. "Then what?"

"They're juggernauts," said Castiel. "Unintelligent, but nearly impossible to kill. Flesh eaters. Essentially trolls."

Dean smirked and shrugged. "Pretty hot for a bunch of trolls."

Sam looked at Dean like he was crazy. "They looked like 80s cartoon bad guys."

Dean started pealing his coat off. "Even better. The blonde was into me."

"Her foot was into your face," Sam said. "That's how you ended up in the lobster tank, remember? I knew we should've stayed in."

"And ate what?" Dean said.

"I bought food," said Sam.

"You bought rice and a dinosaur foot," said Dean.

"Ginger root," Sam said, "and it wouldn't kill you to eat real food every now and then. It's not that bad."

"Oh, really? Do you remember this?" Dean reached into his shirt pocket and fetched out an old, soggy Polaroid, one of himself frowning intensely.

Sam rolled his eyes and turned away. Shook his head. "You know, I'm getting really sick of that thing."

Castiel squinted at the photo. "Why do you keep a picture of yourself in your pocket?"

"Don't get him started," Sam muttered.

Garth looked at the photo, then at Dean, brows raised. "It's a valid question, dude."

"It's not for me," Dead said smugly. "I keep this is to remind my brother of the time he made me eat the Toot Burger."

Garth giggled, "I'm sorry, what in the hell?"

Sam took a deep breath through his nose, about a minute away from smacking Dean. "It was a bean patty," he said, turning back to the group, "and it tasted exactly like ground beef."

"Wrong," Dean said. "See, there's only one damn thing in the world that tastes exactly like ground beef." He held up the photo. "That's why I'm making this face, Sammy. Because you made me eat the Toot Burger, and it tasted exactly like _sad_. In my mouth."

"That's real cute," said Sam, ripping the photo out of Dean's hand. "But maybe if you choked down some fiber every once in a while, you wouldn't spend three hours in the bathroom every morning!"

Garth shrieked. Castiel was gone.

Dean gestured to where Cas had been, giving Sam an accusatory look. "That's why I don't take you fishing."

Garth dropped down into one of the dining chairs, looking like he'd had a heart attack. "Criminitly," he gasped. "I think someone needs to have another pow-wow with Mr. Fizzles."


End file.
